


At Odds

by valda



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Star-crossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 23:57:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10775175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valda/pseuds/valda
Summary: A chance encounter distracts young Armitage Hux from his destiny. Or: The galaxy's plans for Armitage Hux interfere with the calling of his heart.





	At Odds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theweddingofthefoxes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweddingofthefoxes/gifts).



> Written for three different Tumblr prompts: [here](http://cosleia.tumblr.com/post/159361765183/kylux-and-9), [here](http://cosleia.tumblr.com/post/159363796568/kylux-14), and [here](http://cosleia.tumblr.com/post/159364840438/will-you-just-tell-me-the-truth-pretty-please).

“There’s a leaf in your hair.”

“What?” Armitage yelped. His hands were halfway to his head when his brain caught up with him. “I mean, how strange! Perhaps it landed there whilst I was taking that stroll through the woods earlier. It certainly was relaxing, ha ha!” He ran a single hand back through his hair, caught the offending leaf between two fingers, and pulled it free, resisting the urge to glare at it.

His companion frowned, setting down her fork. “What has you so nervous?”

“I’m not… _nervous_ , Grand Admiral,” Armitage lied. “Just startled a little.”

Grand Admiral Rae Sloane raised an eyebrow, then shrugged almost imperceptibly. “Well, sit down, your lunch is getting cold.”

As soon as Admiral Sloane released him from her calculating gaze, Armitage hurried to slide out his chair and settle in across from her.

“It’s been some time since you’ve been on-planet, hasn’t it, Armitage?” Sloane asked.

“This is the first time since Arkanis,” Armitage said, picking up his knife and fork and cutting into the odd dish before him: a slab of some sort of protein slathered in sauce, set atop a mound of long, thin strands that he supposed were a starch of some kind.

“How are you liking it?”

The sun was hot, and the little patio at the back of Admiral Sloane’s estate was not shaded, but Armitage was reasonably confident that was not why he felt himself warming. Had his uniform shirt always been this tight?

“Um, well, it’s—” Armitage cast about for something, anything he could say. Something unrelated to the violent drumbeat of his heart, his sweaty palms, the small, bright bruise hidden just below his collar. “—awfully dirty,” he concluded, and then closed his eyes, exasperated with himself. This was all Ben’s fault.

Ben, whose shy smile and awkward angles belied the strength and surety of his hands. Ben, whose lips were soft as pillows and red as blood. Ben, who didn’t live here but was visiting, just like Armitage, who wouldn’t tell if Armitage didn’t, who slid thick fingers into Armitage’s hair and murmured impossibilities into his ear, breath hot on his cheek. Ben, who was probably nobody, except he absolutely wasn’t.

Armitage licked his lips and wished for the first time in his life for the admiral to _not_ notice him, to _not_  care about what he was thinking. He glanced up at her almost guiltily and saw that she was engrossed in her datapad.

“Mm,” she said belatedly. “I suppose it is. You’d probably be suffering half a dozen allergic reactions if you hadn’t been inoculated.” She raised her eyes then, and frowned a second time. “You do look flushed, though. Perhaps they missed one. Report to medical once you’re back on board.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Remember,” Admiral Sloane said, “you are _vital_  to the restoration of the Empire. Absolutely vital. Your knowledge, your skills, your leadership are exactly what we need to overthrow this—this mockery of a government.” She waved her hand dismissively at their surroundings, at the galaxy in general. “We can’t afford for you to be compromised. Especially by something so trivial.”

It suddenly felt as though Armitage had been shoveling rocks down his throat and they’d settled heavily in his stomach. He stopped eating. Of course. How could he have been such a fool? He’d let himself be distracted. He could _never_  let himself be distracted.

Armitage raised his chin. “Yes, ma’am,” he said again.

They were to meet that night, after dark, the last night before Armitage had to leave. Ben sat in the forest clearing with his electric lamp, watching the light flicker eerily across the leaves, and waited for the boy with the beautiful red hair and bright eyes and unnaturally pale skin and skinny wrists and wonderful, wonderful mouth. He sat there, and he waited, and hours and hours passed, and Armitage never came.

~

_They lay in the grass side by side, gasping for breath and staring at the dense canopy above. It was the middle of the day, but the leaves and branches cast so much shadow that it was like dusk, cool and eerie. Armitage shivered, suddenly cold; he rolled over and pressed his bare skin into the warmth of Ben’s._

_Ben grinned at him, leaned up to lazily kiss his mouth. He crooked an arm beneath his own head and caught Armitage’s fingers with his free hand._

Your hands are so much larger than mine _, Armitage thought. Ben was five years younger and already so big. Armitage was done growing, but Ben might get even taller, even broader._

_“I like your hands,” Ben said, as though he’d heard Armitage’s thoughts. He brought the one he was clasping to his lips, kissed the knuckles. “They’re nice.”_

_Armitage felt his face going hot. “Shut up,” he said._

_Ben grinned again. “Okay.” Then he was pushing Armitage onto his back and rolling on top of him, and Armitage barely managed to huff out a surprised “Oh” before Ben’s mouth latched onto his neck._

~

“I waited for you.”

Armitage whirled; he’d heard the words as though they’d been said directly in his ear, but there was no one there. No one anywhere near him. He was alone on the platform, two meters away from the ramp, pack slung over his shoulder. The grand admiral had been too busy to say goodbye; the only beings on her private landing strip were Armitage and a handful of droids. So then—what? Had he really heard that? It had sounded like—

 _Ben_.

The boy suddenly appeared from behind the maintenance shed and marched toward Armitage, hands balled into fists, lips tremulous, eyes dark. He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Did that mean—?

“Where were you?” Ben demanded.

“I couldn’t come,” Armitage said. “My host wouldn’t allow it.”

“You’re lying.” Ben came to a stop close to Armitage, too close, and Armitage could smell him, could smell sweat and the forest.

“All night?” he asked weakly.

“All night,” Ben said. “Will you just tell me the truth?”

“I—” Armitage looked at him, at the rise and fall of his shoulders, at the tousled mess of his thick, dark hair, and he felt his face crumpling. He launched himself forward, throwing his arms around Ben’s neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Ben seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then his arms wrapped around Armitage just as tightly. “Where were you?” he asked again.

“Here,” Armitage said miserably. “I didn’t come because I thought—because I thought you were a _distraction_ —”

Ben drew his head back to look into Armitage’s eyes. “A distraction from what?”

Armitage couldn’t bear to return his gaze. He buried his face in Ben’s shoulder. “From my destiny,” he said, feeling ridiculous.

Ben was quiet for a long time, still holding Armitage. Then Armitage felt Ben’s lips pressing lightly against his hair. “I guess you’re a distraction from my destiny too,” he said.

Armitage laughed without meaning to. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “Sorry. It’s just—strange to hear someone else say they have a destiny.”

“I’m not nobody,” Ben said, again displaying that mysterious ability of his to respond to what Armitage was thinking rather than what he was saying. “I’m…actually pretty important.”

Armitage raised his head. “I am too,” he said.

They looked at each other for a moment, and then Ben smiled, and Armitage felt warmth rising in his chest, as though he was seeing a Super Star Destroyer eclipse an unsuspecting planet. “Well,” Ben said in that confident way of his, “if we’re both important and have destinies, then we’ll probably meet again.”

At that, Armitage had to smile too. “I suppose you’re right,” he said. Then he frowned a bit. “I just hope our destinies don’t turn out to be—at odds.”

Ben laughed and squeezed Armitage tight. “I doubt it,” he said, “unless you’re trying to restore the Empire or something.”

Armitage froze. At the same time, Ben dropped his arms as though Armitage had burned him. Slowly, Armitage slid his own arms away from Ben’s neck.

“Armie?” Ben said, looking half horrified, half…something else, something intense that Armitage couldn’t quite identify.

“I have to go,” Armitage said. “We should have departed already. I have to go.”

“Armie,” Ben said again.

“I’m sorry,” Armitage said. He backed away, afraid to move his eyes from Ben’s face until he reached the ramp. “I—goodbye, Ben,” he said, and he turned to board.

For the briefest of moments, it was as if someone had grabbed him, as if he’d become stuck somehow. He couldn’t explain it; he just…couldn’t move. And then, suddenly, he could again, and he fled up the ramp without looking back.

As the ship rose from the platform, Armitage chanced a look out one of the rear viewports. Grand Admiral Sloane’s estate stood proud among the rolling hills, marked off on one side by dense forest. The landing pad lay empty.

Ben was nowhere in sight. He was gone.


End file.
